


Creevey's Corridor

by ReginaSelcouth



Category: Once Upon A Tme
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:40:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24777775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReginaSelcouth/pseuds/ReginaSelcouth
Summary: AU. Voldemort's war is over and the world has had time to rebuild. In that time Regina Mills, one of Hogwart's recent graduates, has become the new Dark Arts Professor. Welcome to class.
Kudos: 3





	Creevey's Corridor

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. This wasn't done for profit. No infringement intended. Thank you great and mighty powers for letting me play in your sandbox.

**A/N: (06/16/20) I originally wrote this in 2013. Back then I had a job that would let me write 6 hours a day with few problems. Since that time, life has happened. Many times. The single worst event was a computer repair I had to have done and the fool I gave my comp AND A BLANK TERABYTE HARD DRIVE TO didn’t copy my data before he erased it. That really soured me for quite a while. I had other works that were… well, you get the idea.**

**In short, I think I’ve recaptured that voice and am going to try again. This is an edited version of that. I hope I’ve cleaned it up well enough to re-present. I’m also going to keep the old notes as they were (with dates added)…**

**(07/12/13) This is my first fanfic. Please keep that in mind when you read. Now that the 'don't hurt me' cringe is out of the way, I've had this idea in my head for a while. I always hated that Regina got railroaded, abused, tricked, backstabbed by everyone and then blamed for it all. Yeah, I know, she was the Evil Queen, but absolutely no one in that show has clean hands. I could rant on for an hour, but I won't. This popped into my head a while back. I wondered what RM would be like if she were given some support to go with her choices. This kind of bubbled to the top. This particular bit is only a small part of the whole, so I thought I might test the waters a bit and see what people think. If you want more, say so.**

**(04/08/16): Just a little edit job, redid some punctuation, spelling correction and touched up the wording for flow. Also put a break in at the scene change.**

**CREEVEY'S CORRIDOR **

'Right Regina," the dark haired woman shook her sable hair back, tugged and brushed at her robes. _'Chin up. Eyes straight ahead. Remember, they're more afraid of you than you are of them...'_ An image of her mother's unhappy moue entered her mind. _'And if they're not, make them.'_

A jerk of her chin bade the huge double doors open and Regina Mills stepped into the classroom almost as though she owned it. She knew she hadn't quite perfected old Professor Snape's impatient, not to be questioned stride and doubt pulled at the corners of her full lips. Hopefully, her busy, clopping pace was close enough to get her point across.

"Welcome to Defense Against the Dark Arts." Her tone dripped annoyance. "I will be your professor this year. My name is Regina Mills." She paced to the top of the dais at the front of the room, turned and crossed her arms, all with the perfect tempo of a metronome. "Let's get the first of your most blatant stupidities out of the way right now, shall we? Some of you may have already commented amongst yourselves regarding my age. I suspect you're either going to think that inexperience will make me timid and insecure in my position, or that perhaps because you're sixth years and I'm only a few years older than yourselves that I'll be your chummie and let you skate by with a nod and a wink. Well," she gave them what she hoped was an intimidating raised eyebrow, "you couldn't be more wrong on either count."

A small burst of hastily suppressed giggles broke out near one side of the room. Regina blinked, surprised. She turned 'caustic gaze number three' on that section of desks. Much to her relief, it worked. When silence again reigned she raised one hand and a scroll appeared with a woof of purple smoke. "I have here..." A new wave of laughter burst from the little knot. A thrill of nervousness licked her spine as she forced herself to follow her long rehearsed 'what if' checklist. Her first gambit was a faux sigh. Second was to set the scroll down with a very calm, very measured movement and then brush her robe in an almost idle gesture. Third; the 'look'. Her seemingly bored gaze catalogued the little mass of distractions until she found the one she was looking for.

He was about to whisper something else when the dark woman suddenly snarled and jerked a clawed hand up into the air. Instantly, the brown haired boy gasped, shocked as her spell seized him and hurtled him across the room with a bat-like flap of robes. Within the blink of an eye, he hung suspended in the air before the dais, his pale, surprised face inches away from her scowl.

"But I didn't..." An impatient zipping gesture from her sealed his feeble protest away.

"Harbincourt, isn't it?" Regina's purr was dangerous, as was the smile she bestowed as she mimicked his worried nod. "Well, Mister Harbincourt, there's a trick to finding trouble makers. Would you care to know what it is?"

Again the nod came, but this time, rather than mirroring him, she turned and strode nonchalantly away, leaving him helpless in the air.

"It's really quite simple," she said loud enough for the rest of the class to hear. "You see, when those others laughed at your little comments, all I had to do was look for the smarmiest looking git of the lot." She turned and favored him with another mirthless smile. "Annoying little squints like yourself are always eager to demonstrate stupidity in exchange for attention. When they get it they think themselves clever and they smarm. You were smarming, Mister Harbincourt." Her dark eyes flicked over his face, taking baleful inventory of his wide eyes and the almost bovine sweat popping out on his paralyzed upper lip. "While your mates were sniggering and covering their mouths, you were sitting with your arm on the back of your seat. Smarming. Worse still, you were smarming me. That was a mistake."

The boy gave a whiny, close-mouthed rebuttal.

"Let me guess. You didn't do it." The boy nodded hurriedly. Professor Mills' lazy gesture shifted the hovering boy to one side. "Class, let this be your first lesson of the year," her annoyed growl vibrated in their bones, "I will not tolerate disrespect. Or liars."

She stepped intimidatingly near, her smoldering, coal-black eyes nearly singeing the young man's wide blue ones. "Now, we could whip down to Professor Slughorn's and see if we might procure a little Veritas Serum and find out whether or not you're really telling the truth, but we don't need to go through all that effort, do we?"

Defeated, the boy hung his head.

"Good." Her eyes traveled disdainfully down his robes, alighting on his house crest. "I see that you're a Slytherin." She frowned out to the sea of frightened faces. "All Slytherins will rise. Now."

Within the instant, panicked screeches of chairs filled the high stone room. It took real effort to keep her expression neutral as she surveyed the worried half dozen she saw standing. No one else seemed to want to be singled out in the woman's nearly incandescent glare.

"Excellent." The smile she turned on Harbincourt was cold and, judging from his expression, somehow more worrying than her frown. "Those six are probably going to want words with you in the common room later this evening. You see, your smart mouth has just deprived Slytherin House of twenty-five points." The class' collective gasp made her smile broaden dangerously. "And on the first day of term too."

"Please, Miss Mills..." One of the standing students began.

"Do you wish to add to that number, Miss DelaCroix?"

"No ma'am."

"Then remain silent." Her dismissive gesture dropped the young man the foot or so to the old stone floor. "You may leave, Mister Harbincourt. You have earned a failing grade for the day. Perhaps tomorrow you will come in with a more disciplined mind."

The boy tried to speak through his still sealed lips, but the dark woman's swift thrust finger killed his efforts instantly.

"GO!"

She waited unmoving as the boy scrambled away, assuming to a more relaxed lean on her desk only after the doors banged themselves shut.

"Ladies and gentlemen, and I use those terms loosely, this was to be today's test." She smiled faintly and lifted the rolled up parchment. A flick of her wrist turned the scroll into a rigid rectangle. "My original plan was to keep this with me, read the questions aloud and let you volunteer answers. Unfortunately, Mister Harbincourt and his little clique have absolutely destroyed any inkling of kindness I might have had for the lot of you." She released the sheet to hover placidly in the air. A tap from her fingertip turned the single piece into a stack.

"First row rise," her offhanded, easy gesture seemed to make the students want to hurry. "You will come up here one at a time, take your parchments and return to your seats. The test begins as soon as you are seated."

The students began to file hesitantly forward as if none of them wanted to get too close to the professor. Regina stepped a little further away, carefully masking her smile as the line picked up speed. A hand rose in one of the back corners.

"Yes? Huggins, isn't it?"

"Yes professor," the student returned in a somewhat meek voice. "If the test begins as soon as we're seated, won't the back rows have less time than the front?"

"You are correct, Mister Huggins, the rear rows should have roughly half the time to complete the test."

"But ma'am, that's not fair."

"No. It isn't." Regina's expression and voice remained frost-bitter. "But Darkness isn't fair. Evil isn't going to give you a chance to prepare yourself Mister Huggins, it's going to strike when you're at your weakest." She surveyed the class pointedly. "This class is Defense against the Dark Arts. I'm here to teach you how to defend yourselves, not to give you a nod and a pat on the head. I suppose this would be an adequate second lesson of the day; sometimes you have to accomplish your task with what you have, not what you want."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Twenty-five points, Regina," Professor McGonegal shook her head slightly. "That's a great many for such a trifling offense."

"Yes Professor, sorry, Headmistress, it is." Regina glanced uncertainly over at the older woman as they walked side by side down the wide corridor. It was obvious to anyone that she was a little nervous walking beside her old instructor. "Twenty too many, according to Headmaster Dumbledore's guidelines."

"Then why on earth did you give them? Professor Pickman has already been to my office. He's worried about Harbincourt's parents. They won't take this well, you know..." Her eyebrows rose when the younger woman grumbled.

"The way the Malfoys used to 'not take things well'?"

"Well, no, obviously not" the old woman pursed her lips as if even hearing the name 'Malfoy' made her want to spit, "but even so, Hogwarts does require a certain number of patrons to keep functioning. The Harbincourts are very well placed in the wizarding world. They could make things somewhat difficult for us."

"Headmistress, it wasn't my goal to create difficulties, in fact, I intend to give twenty of them back to Slytherin as quickly as possible." Regina supplied. "I just had to break up Harbincourt's little clique, get them to steal his thunder themselves..."

"He was challenging you," the older woman nodded.

"Exactly. To be blunt, Professor, sorry, Headmistress..." The olive skinned young woman offered up another timid smile of apology.

"It's quite alright, Regina," McGonegal waved her hand dismissively, "'professor' will be fine when there's no one about, but please continue."

"It's because I'm the new girl," she paused and held out her hands, as if presenting herself. "Look at me, I'm half the age of most of the other professors, even less in a few cases. In fact, I'm much closer to the age of some of my students..."

"And you think that your age could contribute to disrespect," the older woman nodded.

"Exactly. Harbincourt was the first, and if I'm lucky, the only stray nail I'll have to hammer down." Regina's face flowered in a brief smile. "I suppose Mal's rubbing off on me."

"Oh?" The headmistress tried very hard not to take the phrase literally. "She's often said 'don't fight to win this fight, fight hard enough to win the next one too'. I hope being so rough with Mister Harbincourt will dissuade some of the more unruly ones in the future..." She looked over, puzzled as to why the older woman appeared to be blushing. "Right now they may not respect me, but they do fear me. That should keep them in their seats and their mouths shut for the most part."

"But without respect..."

"Professor, respect will come. I realize that it has to be earned and that I haven't had that much time to do so. I can earn the respect of the worthy ones, as for the rest?" she shrugged. "Fear will work. It worked for Professor Snape."

"Yes, but his reputation is not one to be envied." The old woman took her former student by the elbow and resumed walking.

"No," Regina agreed unhappily, "but I'll take it if I can get nothing else. Besides, the current crop of later-year students will graduate and give me more time to work on the younger ones. In the end, what really matters is not whether they respect or fear me, those are just tools for opening their minds. The real question is whether or not they'll let me pour in anything useful."

The wide doors of the feasting hall opened obediently as the pair arrived. Even this early, there were already little pods of students clustered in the high ceilinged room. The younger ones were naturally louder, though when they saw who was passing by, they tended to lower their voices and put their heads closer together. Idly, Regina wondered if they were more worried about the presence of Hogwarts' headmistress, or her own.

"Don't take this at anything but face value, Regina, but I'll be very interested to see how things work out." Minerva McGonegal stepped over the big golden chair everyone still thought of as Dumbledore's. The pair sat almost simultaneously, both looking out at the little knots of robes. "Tell me, just how are things with Miss Selcouth? Is she settling in well at the Ministry of Magic?"

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Regina was already waiting as the mob of sixth year's gaggled back into her classroom. A wave of silence washed over the front of the crowd when they noticed the professor already in her high-backed seat, staring at them over steepled fingers. The quiet flowed over the rest like a tide, until the only sound in the room was the sound of robes sliding across wooden seats and the squeak of chair legs. When the last was finally situated, Professor Mills lowered her hands and favored the mass with a cool smirk.

"Well, well, well. Look at what we have here. A group of… individuals, some of whom think they should be referred to as students." Regina's purr made a few of her victims shift uncomfortably. "I must say that yesterday's tests were most instructive." The olive-skinned woman rose, put her hands behind her back and strode unhurriedly around the desk, savoring the silent fear now simmering through the cool air. Her smile looked almost genuine as she propped on the front edge of her desk. "I have them here." She gestured and a stack of parchments slid themselves forward. "Yes indeed… most instructive."

"Contrary to what some of you apparently believe, this test wasn't given so that you might have something to do, or to pass the time of day. It was a tool to let me see how much you retained from last year, as well as giving me an insight into just how much information I need to hammer into those densely ossified masses atop your necks." Her smile faded as she surveyed the silent crowd. "Unfortunately, most of your grades are merely average. You're neither too far behind, nor do many of you seem particularly gifted, but as with all things, there are exceptions." She smirked again as the sound of a few more nervous shifts entered the otherwise silent air.

"Adam Wandreave and JoAnna Styles, please stand." Her voice held a tone of neutral command. The pair stood uncomfortably, unsure of what the dark young woman had in store. "Out of everyone in this class, you two are the ones most likely to survive if something hungry were to come at you from the dark." She snapped her fingers and two sheets of parchment spun through the air and into the surprised hands of the two students. "Both of you attained perfect scores and have earned five points for your respective houses. You have also earned a free period today. You may leave the class without fear of opprobrium."

"If you please, professor," the young man grinned up from a quick survey of his paper. He had a feeling the notations ‘excellant work’ and ‘well done’ were going to be rarely used in the future. "I'd just as soon stay, if that's acceptable. Never can learn too much, you know."

"Oooo, well played, Mister Wandreave," Regina gave a short pattering clap. "I notice that you're a Slytherin. Your positive attitude has just recovered five more of Mister Harbincourt's lost points." She tilted her head abruptly and the predatory gleam in her eyes chilled any warm overtones they might have carried. "Unfortunately, today’s lesson will not be a pleasant one. You will shortly have the opportunity to share your expertise with the rest of your class, should you so desire."

The pair sat.

"We're going to do something a bit unusual this morning," Regina announced as she stepped down to the left hand corner desk. "From you, Miss Cartrie, the class will count off by fives. You are number one, you two and so forth." She quirked her eyebrow and gestured almost impatiently. "Count off. Now."

"One..."

"Two..."

"Three..."

As the class continued, Regina paced languidly across the front of the room. "This little exercise is the first part of what some people might refer to as an object lesson. For those of you not clever enough to understand the term, it's a material way to show you a more real-world effect of your knowledge, or, in this case, the lack thereof." She paced slowly back and forth until the counting had ceased.

"Look around you, ladies and gentlemen." She watched as heads turned curiously. "Wandreave and Styles' mastery of their lessons have killed all those you now see standing." A susurrus of whispers and chuckles muttered against the old stone walls. "Yes, I am counting myself in that number. However, when you consider how many people there are in this room, one of thirty is not bad. Your collective consciences should be able to handle killing a single person with your ignorance."

She gestured and several more sheets fluttered from her desk into the hands of their students. "You, you and you, stand." She walked back to her desk, where she leaned. "Those of you who received ninety percentile have, in effect, killed three of thirty. Not bad." Her tone remained hard as she looked intently at the ones who had just received their grades. "Not bad for you. Your dead classmates might choose to differ, if corpses could speak at all." Another gesture bade the three sit once more.

"All ones, please stand." More papers riffled out across the room. She looked at one of those now standing. "Miss Mudgett, what's the name of your most beloved pet?"

The broad-faced young woman began to stutter out something, but was cut off by a gesture.

"Doesn't matter," Regina dismissed her to silence. "You don't have any beloved pets now. Or parents. Or friends. I'm afraid that you and these others are dead." Her gaze tracked across the room, making a number of her students shiver. "Those who scored eighty percentile have killed you. I hope your death meant something worthwhile to them, perhaps an extra hour of sleep this morning?" She gestured that lot back into their seats.

"Twos and threes, stand." More papers flew. A few scattered groups were beginning to whisper now. In the back of the room a brief snicker erupted and died quickly. Regina noticed that the snickerer was not a brown haired boy named Harbincourt. "These are the combined results of seventy and sixty percent. That's quite a lot of people, isn't it? Almost half the class dead due to ignorance, incompetence or just plain laziness."

"There were three grades worse," the professor's disdain hung in the air like an early frost. "I'll not bore you with actual numbers, but suffice to say their ending tally kills more people than we currently have available to die." The young professor offered a sad little moue to the once prideful Wandreave and Styles. "How does it feel, lady and gentleman, to know that all your knowledge, all your apparent skill and hours of devoted study were run into deficit by only three of your classmates? And I hope you’ll notice, they didn't just manage to slaughter everyone you managed to save, but they managed to kill you as well." She shook her head and gave a morbid little sigh. "Pity. You had such brilliant futures."

She turned and strode up to her desk and regained her relaxed perch. "I suppose the first art of today's lesson is obvious, but for that half of you who are too self absorbed to understand something even this simple, I'll try to explain." Her voice rose from its sarcastic, softer tone into something brutishly hard. "Until you realize one thing, you will be in danger. Worse, you will be a danger to those around you. That thing is this; what you don't know can kill you. Worse, it can kill everyone you know or love."

She surveyed the crowd, making eye contact with as many as she could, trying to get an idea of what her students were feeling. Regina was relieved to see that the many of the poorer scorers felt uncomfortable beneath her gaze and looked away. Naturally, a few were unrepentant, apparently satisfied with only failing a few of their classmates. She sighed again and shook her head.

"You know," she crossed her arms, "I think I'm going to give you lot a choice. You can accept your grade and walk out of this room right now, no hard feelings, or you can stay for another little exercise. If you do stay, your grade will not be used to establish any part of this term's final score, but you must be prepared for the worst experience of your young lives. I won't force anyone. It's completely up to you."

"May we leave now, professor?" A voice called from the back of the room.

"You may," she raised her voice to be heard offer the sudden rush of conversation and evacuation, "with the caveat that if you disturb another class, whatever punishment that you receive from any other professor will pale before what I do to you."

The exodus was quickly over, leaving slightly less than half the original class in their seats. She looked around and nodded.

"Well, now it's just us." She swallowed as a faint tremble of nervousness entered her voice. A quickly cleared throat and a shake seemed to bring back the cool ice queen they knew and feared. Her obvious attempt to bolster herself made some of the youngsters glance nervously at each other. Regina caught their expressions and offered them a rather weak smile. She clipped a quick nod. "Follow me."

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"Ladies and gentlemen, what we are about to undertake will be unpleasant. Some will doubtless call it horrible. Speaking from personal experience, I doubt very much that any of you will come through it without the memory haunting you for quite some time to come. Therefore, I will now give you one last chance to accept your grade and go."

The dozen or so students had gathered in a ragged half moon around the place where Regina Mills stood with her back to a large, iron-bound door. She studied them, the way they stood alone, or with someone else. Already one or two of them were smiling, convinced that this was all some sort of elaborate prank. None left.

An ephemeral boy drifted through the door and the professor too. "Oh sorry, Regina, I didn't see you there." The eternally young man offered an apologetic smile.

"It's okay, Colin..."

His curious eye fell on the assembled students. "You're not tasking them back there, are you? I mean, not back into..." the young ghost's normally bright expression died with a shiver.

"I'm afraid so," Regina's voice was low and its faintly fearful note killed most of her student's smirks. "I'm the Dark Arts professor now you know. Sometimes I have to show students what it was like..."

"No. Regina, you don't need to..." the translucent face looked back at the now frightened group. His forever young eyes hardened. "What did you lot do? You shouldn't make her go through this again. Just doing it once..."

"Colin. Please." She tilted her head and caught herself reaching to soothe an untouchable cheek. "Listen, I need you to do something for me."

"What's that?"

"I need you to go to Nurse Wainscot and tell her to prepare a few Orestes Potions. I think some of our friends here will have need of them tonight," Regina nodded towards her murmuring students.

"I know you're trying to get me to go away," Colin pouted. "Of course I am, you goon," the olive skinned woman forced a playful tone in her voice. "You've already been through this. You know what happens. Go to the infirmary. Please."

"Fine," the ghost made a big show of sighing. He turned and began to drift towards the crowd, pausing to frown angrily as they parted for him. "I hope you all have fun in there. I know I didn't."

Regina watched the little ghost drift away. "We were classmates, Colin Creevey and I." She cleared the tears from her voice with a quick rasp. "Of course, I was Slytherin and he was Gryffindor, so we didn't talk much."

None of the students were smiling anymore. She noticed that one or two of them had become quite pale.

"Attention." She announced in a loud, brittle voice. "Beyond this door is a little stretch of corridor, just like any other here at Hogwarts. All we have to do is get to the other end. This is going to show you what you really know about defending yourselves against the dark." She produced her wand and slipped it into the weathered plate below the door handle. Grim, cold looking lightening flickered over the door's iron bindings and hinges as she twisted first this way, then that. A mad gleam erupted in her brown eyes. "I honestly don't expect most of us to make it." A curse bold chuckled against the interior ironwork as she pulled at the heavy door. "I suggest you run."

As Regina darted forward her arm jerked into a frantic upward block, barely in time for a stray bolt to pop and spark into nothingness. She sidestepped as the dark cloud of an evil wizard tumbled through, roiling out a shattered window nearby. Behind her, the three foremost students stumbled in and froze, awestruck at the carnage.

"Run you fools," she shouted above the din. "The only way out is through."

The tallest of the lot, a tow-headed boy named Sheffield, ducked his head and charged, getting as close to the professor as he could. He was the ice-breaker. Behind him the others surged randomly through, sometimes singly, or in pairs. When the last had passed, the door slammed shut, sealing all of them inside. The boom seemed to paralyze one girl. It was Mudgett, the Hufflepuff. Regina looked back, gathering breath to shout. One of Voldemort's dark witches was faster.

None of them heard the verbal or saw the wand flash across its somatic component, but with magic, witnesses didn't matter. Only power did. Instantly, the floor erupted into a trio of stony jaws that snapped shut, trapping the girl in a cage of long, sculpted teeth. The young woman's scream was cut off as they jerked her back through the floor. The witch never got a chance to gloat before a bolt from the professor's wand pancaked her into the nearest wall hard enough to leave cracks in the old stone blocks.

Regina scowled at the first wail of fear. It was Cartrie, sitting red-faced against a wall and beginning to blubber. "Did you see? Did you see?" her voice rose, already raw.

"There's no time. COME ON!" The professor lurched forward again, stumbling as a hollow boom shook the corridor.

Regina managed to catch herself on a buttress. A quick look back through the trickling masonry dust showed that her students were running, stumbling, falling, scrabbling for cover along the walls. Three of them were on the wrong side of the corridor. Another resounding boom seemed to shake everyone from their feet. Unnoticed cracks spiderwebbed the stone above the trio.

"NO!" Harbincourt tried to shout above the din. "Get over here!"

One of them looked up, terrified. Huggins, the boy who had complained about fairness, ignored gravel and fist sized chunks of stone beginning to clatter and rattle about him. He wasn't gentle with the dust caked shape he grabbed, seizing hair instead of robe as well as a flailing arm. Regina could almost hear him grunt with the effort of throwing whoever it was away from the wall. It collapsed before he could do more.

Angry light falling through the new gouge made the dusty air glow. Beyond the hole, silhouetted against the sky was a huge dark shape. A giant. Its massive club was already rising for another swing.

As Regina raised her wand, her voice merged with those of two other students as they all shouted different spells. Force, fire and lightening exploded against the shadowy shape.

Harbincourt leapt as it reeled out of sight, crossing the chaos to the rubble pile. He'd forgotten everything else but throwing stones to get to his classmates. Another joined him. Within seconds the bigger blocks were flying as someone mouthed the Wingardium charm. A curse bolt dropped one of the struggling boys dead.

"NO! They're done for. Come on!" Regina leapt away from the protecting stones, one of her flash-fired charms slapped a dark shrouded wizard away. "Follow me! Hurry!"

The weakened group rushed forward into smoke and chaos, their rush accompanied by a frightened small voice shouting "Arania Exume!"

The melee swirled apart just in time for her to see another of Aragog's hellish children leap through another, broader breach in the wall. Colin Creevey was standing fearfully in their way. His wand flicked instantly and he shouted the second beast away. Regina screamed rage at the third, which was already pouncing as the Colin began to mouth his best spell.

Her wand-channeled wrath disintegrated the third giant spider. A fourth came and a fifth, a hideous handful more pushed through the gap in a furry, chittering knot. Regina blasted them all with a single flaming burst. The boy turned and smiled. Then his eyes went wide.

"Professor, look out!"

Sheffield's warning came too late. Regina turned just in time to see the cobbled together wreckage golem swing a massive, misshapen stone limb her way. Only defiance made her even attempt a spell. The knot of spell-fried stone crushed her ribs and flung her away like a ragdoll.

"Professor Mills!"

The others gaped as the woman slapped against the wall and fell near the little mound the giant had made. The tiny, terrified group stood, momentarily frozen at the image of her open, surprised eyes staring up into the settling dust.

Screaming Cartrie went first. Her shouted spell blasted a chunk out of the golem. Sheffield followed instantly, shouting and blasting off another chunk. A third outgoing bolt sizzled by, raising his hair. A massed shout from several throats shattered the stone monster.

"Chris," a girl's shrill voice stabbed his ear as she shook his shoulder. "We have to go. She said the only way out..."

"...Is through." Chris Sheffield lunged forward, nearly tripping over the still rolling stones. His sudden accidental sag saved him from a harsh throated avada kadavra. Cartrie collapsed face first into the dust nearby.

As they staggered forward, the struggling survivors began to catch glimpses of the huge, damaged door at the end of the corridor. Smoke, flailing people and the tumbling contrails of flying wizards made it impossible to guess how far away it was. They rushed on, jumping masonry, hopping corpses, heads instinctively held low. A black cloud pinwheeled through them, taking a screaming girl with it out through a hole in the ceiling.

It took a four second eternity to get close enough to see the door clearly and another two seconds before they were within mere yards. Sheffield felt a smile crease the dust on his face. Then a black cloud and insane laughter splashed onto the wreckage strewn floor before them. The wild haired woman wiped his hope away with a fan of flame from the end of her wand.

Sheffield forced himself to ignore the agony and the stenches of burning flesh and hair as he stabbed his wand down and shrieked "INVICTUS!"

Behind his hasty shield, the remaining few hurled bolts as fast as they could. The madwoman flailed, blocking frantically. Suddenly a ripple of raw force shivered the rictus from her face and she leapt up, becoming a torrent of black smoke, rocketing away.

The tall boy hit the door at a clumsy, limping run, more falling onto it than not. Smoke from his robes tried to blind him and he could feel only agony in his hands and face. He hit hard and shoved. Other weights pounded on his back as his friends and classmates tumbled into him, their frantic mass pushing the heavy door open at last.

Sheffield tumbled out and the mob fell atop him. For a long moment, he lay panting, summoning breath to moan. It was just ready to go when he realized that there was no longer any need. The pain had gone. He opened his eyes in time to see a pair of gleaming, low-ankled boots step into his field of vision as the door boomed shut again.

"Well. Congratulations, Mister Sheffield, six of you made it through." There was a genuine smile in Professor Mill's voice. "Much more than I expected."

The much reduced group looked up and goggled that Regina Mills was there to look down at them. The small group panted and struggled first to their knees, then to their feet, as amazed as she that they were unharmed. "Professor Mills?" a girl sounded almost shell-shocked. "You were killed. I saw..."

"You saw me die. I know," the woman nodded placidly. "Muggles might call all that a simulation, for us it was a glamour. The point is that none of your classmates have really died. They haven't even been injured," Regina stepped around them, shaking her head at their mussed appearance. "As each one fell, they reappeared in their respective dormitories, shaken I'm sure, but otherwise unharmed."

"But you're here..." Sheffield coughed at the memory of smoke.

"I'm the one who activated Creevey's Corridor," Regina replied simply. "No matter what happens inside, whoever activates the spell will get to this point."

"But why do that to someone?" one girl's voice was thickening with tears. "It was horrible. Horrible."

"To wake you up. You made forty percentile on the test, Miss Remington. If that had been a real situation, you would have just lost half of your friends. What did you do to save any of them?" Regina asked. "Did you just run, or did you fight? Did you try to save Huggins and Shellagrew? Mister Harbincourt did and, in the real world, he would have paid for his courage with his life."

"You were killed," a second boy mumbled petulantly.

"This time," Regina nodded. "When all that was real, I lived. Many of my classmates did not."

"Like your friend Colin?" Sheffield asked. "It's called Creevey's Corridor for a reason." Regina's hand fell on the handle, opening it with a click.

"Professor, no," the others gasped. The door opened on a long, empty corridor. It was clean and the morning sun fell in through high arched windows. It looked as though the house elves had just finished cleaning. Venerable gray stone didn’t exactly gleam, but there were no stains. No marks or cracks. Certainly no blood. It smelled like an early fall day in there.

She looked back with a raised eyebrow. "It's just a hallway," the corners of her mouth ticked upwards briefly, bitterly. "Just like any other at Hogwarts." She turned and strode down the center of the clean floor without looking back. "You must learn how to defend yourselves against the Dark Arts. It's my duty to teach you. Tomorrow we begin the year in earnest."


End file.
